


Never More to Be Alone

by sinnerforhire



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Friendship, Gen, Military
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-03
Updated: 2010-02-03
Packaged: 2017-10-07 00:31:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinnerforhire/pseuds/sinnerforhire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A chance meeting leads to an unlikely friendship.  Title and plotbunny from "Traveling Soldier" by the Dixie Chicks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never More to Be Alone

Working at McDonald's is not the way Jared wants to spend his last summer before high school, but his parents told him in no uncertain terms that if he wants to get a car for his sixteenth birthday he's damn well gonna pay for half of it himself. So he stands behind a cash register for seven and three-quarter hours a day and smiles at the toothless rednecks and teenage moms and wishes that his parents would win the lottery or the grill would catch fire and burn the place. He figures he's got a much better shot on the second wish than the first.

He's two hours into his fourth shift of the week when a busload of grunts from the Army National Guard base down the road comes in, all of them in matching camo coveralls that kind of look like pajamas and boots so shiny they reflect the ugly fluorescent light. He has to call his manager Traci to jump on register to keep the line moving and even with her help it still takes about ten minutes to get them all through. As soon as the last order is taken, Traci looks at the clock and swears. "Go clock out, you're on lunch," she barks.

Jared clocks out in the back and grabs two boxes of McNuggets and some burned fries. When he goes out to the dining room, there's not a single open table. "Goddammit."

"You can sit here," comes a soft voice from behind him. He turns to see a freckle-faced soldier about his brother's age sitting alone in a corner booth.

"Thanks," Jared replies, sliding into the seat. "My name's Jared. What's yours?"

"Jensen." He smiles, but his eyes are sad. "Can't remember the last time anybody called me that, though."

"How long have you been in the Army?"

"Six months." He licks mustard off one thumb. "I didn't know they were gonna ship me out so soon."

"Where are you going?" asks Jared as he drizzles ketchup over his disgusting fries.

Jensen looks down at the table. "Iraq."

"Dude, that sucks."

"Sure does." He takes the last bite of his double cheeseburger and wads up the wrapper. "But we're goin' to Mississippi to train for three months first."

Jared looks out the window at the battered white bus. "That's where your bus is going?"

"Yep." Jensen grins. "It's like in high school, except there's no cute cheerleaders with big tits that bounce whenever you hit a bump."

Jared remembers how they used to trick Mandy Rivers into sitting on top of the tire for that very reason and smiles. Then he processes what Jensen actually said and shakes his head. "I'm sorry."

Jensen shrugs. "Nothin' for you to be sorry for."

Just then Jared has an idea. "You should give me your address. My church sends care packages to soldiers at holidays. I could get them to send stuff to you."

Jensen smiles, a real smile that lights up his eyes, and pulls his wallet out of his pocket. "You got a pen?"

"I can get one from the counter," Jared replies. He runs over to his register and grabs one from under the drawer. Jensen tears off a corner of the tray liner and writes down his name and a bunch of codes that don't make much sense. "What does P-F-C stand for?"

"Private first class." Jensen ducks his head. "That's not very good."

A short man with ugly glasses approaches their table. "Five minutes, Ackles."

"Thanks, Corporal." The man nods at Jensen and heads for the next table. "I need to call my mom, so..." Jensen stands up and moves to take his tray, but Jared puts his hand out and stops him.

"I'll get it."

Jensen smiles. "Thanks." He extends his hand and Jared takes it. "It was nice meeting you."

Jared grins. "Yeah." He holds up Jensen's address. "Maybe I'll write to you sometime. If you want me to."

Jensen's smile widens and the lines at the corners of his eyes crinkle up. "I'd like that." He looks at his watch. "I gotta go. But thanks."

Jared watches Jensen walk outside and open his phone. Jensen paces a few steps as he talks, back and forth in front of the window. When he flips the phone shut, he has the same sad-eyed smile on his face that he gave Jared. More Army guys walk past him; one claps him on the back and leads him toward the bus. A few minutes later, the bus pulls away. Jared puts the scrap of paper in his own wallet and dumps the tray. He clocks back in as soon as he's allowed, and for the rest of his shift he can't get that sad smile out of his mind.

*~*~*~*~*

On the Fourth of July, Jared goes to the lake with his family like he always does and takes pictures of the girls in bikinis with their beach balls and their sparklers. He sends them to Jensen along with a short letter. Jensen writes back a two-page letter about what he's doing in training. Some of it sounds awful--they run miles every day in the hot sun; he says somebody passes out about every other day, but he hasn't yet, thank God. Some of it actually sounds kind of cool--apparently Jensen is infantry, which means he gets to shoot guns and do all kinds of combat drills that sound like video games. He also gets hand-to-hand combat training, during which two guys in his unit dislocated their shoulders doing forward rolls. At the end of the letter he says _all the guys in his barracks liked the pictures. You think you can send pictures of cheerleaders once football season starts?_ Jared laughs out loud at that, then sticks the letter under his camera so he won't forget.

A few weeks later, Jared goes to the bookstore to buy the required texts for honors English and finds a greeting card showing a girl turning into a butterfly. He thinks it's cool, so he buys it for Jensen and sends it to him. Jensen sends a shorter letter this time because he's laid up in the infirmary after having a bad reaction to the smallpox vaccine--he's got a rash and a fever and he says _I know it's totally lame but I really want my mom right now._ Jared can't blame him, he would feel the same way if he was sick and far away from home, and Jensen isn't that much older than him.

On Jared's third day of high school he has a study hall, so he writes Jensen a long letter about his classes and his really cool Spanish teacher and the girls in his gym class who wear their shorts almost obscenely low. The first football game is the last week of August and Jared spends the whole night taking pictures of the cheerleaders from different angles, but he only gets the best ones printed. Jensen responds a little later than usual because _we're really busy right now. We're getting all kinds of new gear assigned and we have to clean up the practice gear we're using now. There are some really neat toys that we're not allowed to talk about because they're classified. We're also packing all the trucks and stuff that are getting shipped overseas with us._ At the end of the letter he gives Jared the APO address he'll have in Iraq as well as the address that they can use to send stuff for the whole unit.

Two weeks later Jared gets a letter with an elaborate foreign postmark. _We're in Kuwait right now_, it begins, _and there's a Starbucks here that looks exactly like the ones at home, except when you look out the front door it's all sand as far as the eye can see. But when you're looking at the counter it's like you're still in Texas._ Later, he writes _I kind of can't believe I'm really here. I keep thinking it's all a bad dream and any minute I'm going to wake up in my bed with my mom yelling at me for sleeping in. But then I'll see a woman in a burqa or hear two guys speaking Arabic and then I can't pretend that it's not real._

The letters become shorter and more infrequent after that--Jensen doesn't get much time off to sleep, let alone write, and every letter mentions how busy they are. He gets assigned to convoy duty a lot and then he's off the base for long stretches of time. _They say the attacks on convoys have decreased a lot, but we still heard about one a couple weeks ago in another part of the country. Luckily no one was hurt. If I get killed over here, it's going to be in a convoy._

At Christmas, Jared gets a new iPod and sends his old one to Jensen in a big care package. All Jensen has is a portable CD player he bought at Walmart while he was in Mississippi. Jared doesn't know what kind of music Jensen likes, but he figures anything is better than the same three CDs, which is all Jensen could afford at the time. He also sends Jensen some comic books and a Cowboys cheerleader calendar, because those are light and don't take up much space. Jared's little sister makes Jensen a Christmas card covered in glitter and Jared puts it in a separate envelope with a note warning him that it might shed. Jared gets the thank-you note the week before Valentine's Day.

Jared gets busy with the school play and managing the baseball team and before he knows it, the school year is almost over. He sends Jensen a card on Memorial Day and isn't surprised when he doesn't get a response.

The second week of June, Jared gets a letter from Jensen but it doesn't have the usual postmark on it. Jared doesn't think much of it, though, and rips the letter open as soon as it's out of the mailbox.

_Dear Jared,_

_If you're reading this letter, that means I didn't make it home. In training they made us write a letter to our families for our CO to send if we died in combat, and I sent this letter to my mom and told her to send it to you if she ever got that letter. _

_I just wanted to tell you that meeting you is the best thing that happened to me since I joined the Army. I never really had a lot of friends and even though I only talked to you face-to-face for ten minutes almost a year ago, I call you my best friend. Getting a letter from you is the best part of my day. Thank you so much for all the letters and cards and pictures and the Christmas gifts. They meant more to me than I can really say in words. I wish I could have seen you again and met your family and watched you in a play. Writing this letter is making me really sad but I know it's nothing like what you'll feel if you ever read this. _

_If you haven't gotten your car yet, I want you to have mine. It's kind of old but it runs good and I know you'll take good care of it. I already told my mom all about this so all you have to do is call her and arrange to pick it up. Her number is 469-555-6731. _

_Thank you for being such a good friend and good person._

_Yours truly,  
Jensen_

__

Jared reads the letter three times before he understands what it's saying. Then he bursts into tears and cries so loud that his mom comes running. He hands her the letter and soon she's crying too. She hugs him and tells him she's sorry but he doesn't really hear her. He can't believe Jensen's gone and he's never coming back.

He goes out to the computer and finds Jensen on the _Washington Post_'s Faces of the Fallen. It lists his name and rank, his hometown (Richardson), his age (19), his unit, and the Incident (died of injuries sustained near Fallujah, Iraq when a makeshift bomb detonated near his vehicle).

"He knew," Jared whispers. "He knew that's how he would die."

*~*~*~*~*

Jared gets his license three days after his 16th birthday and it takes him another two days to convince his mom that he can drive Jensen's car home from Richardson by himself. He's glad he'll have her company on the trip down, though. He doesn't want to be alone for that.

They stop at a flower shop outside of town and Jared buys a bouquet for Jensen's mom and a small arrangement to put on Jensen's grave. His mom offers to pay for half. "No, I've got it," he says quietly.

They meet Jensen's mom and older brother at the cemetery. She tears up when Jared gives her the flowers. "You're a good boy," she tells him. "I can see why Jensen was so fond of you." She leads Jared to the grave. The headstone is small and simple, proclaiming Jensen to be a "beloved son, brother, and soldier." An American flag is planted in the ground next to it. Jared sets the flowers down in front of the flag and tries not to cry but he can't help it. Jensen's brother Josh is the only one of them who doesn't cry, and Jared can see that his jaw is clenched so tightly it's twitching.

Jensen's car is a 15-year-old two-door Civic that's in pretty good shape except for a couple dents and a tiny bit of rust on the driver's door. Mrs. Ackles gives him a wobbly smile when she hands over the keys. "Take care of her. Jensen loved that car."

"I will," Jared promises.

When Jared turns the car on, he doesn't recognize the music that's playing beyond knowing it's country. He turns it down a little and watches Jensen's mom and then his mom pull out of the parking lot. "Guess it's just you and me," he says softly, running a hand over the dash.

When he flips the sun visor down, a picture falls into his lap. It shows a younger, blonder Jensen with Josh and a smaller girl he assumes is Jensen's little sister. He tucks it back under the mirror and drives out of the cemetery.

Halfway through the drive, a song comes on that makes Jared have to pull the car over.

_So the letters came  
From an army camp  
In California then Vietnam  
And he told her of his heart  
It might be love  
And all of the things he was so scared of  
Said when it's gettin' kinda rough over here  
I think about that day sittin' down at the pier  
And close my eyes and see your pretty smile  
Now don't worry but I won't be able to write for a while_

_I cried  
Never gonna hold the hand of another guy  
Too young for him they told her  
Waitin' for the love of the travelin' soldier  
Our love will never end  
Waitin' for the soldier to come back again  
Never more to be alone  
When the letter says a soldier's coming home_

Jared looks up. "You tryin' to tell me something?" he asks between sobs.

_One Friday night at a football game  
The Lord's Prayer said and the anthem sang  
A man said folks would you bow your heads  
For the list of local Vietnam dead  
Cryin' all alone under the stands  
Was the piccolo player in the marching band  
And one name read and no one really cared  
But a pretty little girl with a bow in her hair_

"Now that's just not fair." Jared ejects the CD and turns the radio to a classic rock station, which just happens to be in the middle of "Wish You Were Here." "I give up," he says, shaking his head. He dries his eyes, wipes his nose on a napkin he found in the door, and pulls back onto the highway.

When the next song to play is "Stairway to Heaven," Jared just laughs.


End file.
